Redemption: Lost But Not Missed
by FieryDiMaia
Summary: Chap.3: Where's Daddy? Lindsey and his mother have a talk Mother to Son. Who exactly is Lindsey's father? The hardest chapter I've ever written so plz. R&R.
1. Driving Down a Road with Good Intentions

Title: Redemption: Lost But Not Missed  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own anything but the plot.  
  
Summary: Set after Lindsey first left Los Angeles. What happened to Lindsey to make him turn his back completely on redemption? On his journey, Lindsey runs into his biological father and is forced to confront what he really is. But will this newfound power help Lindsey damn himself?  
  
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Chapter 1: Driving Down a Road Paved with Good Intentions  
  
Lindsey's POV:  
  
It's been two months since I've left Wolfram & Hart. Two months since I came to a truce of sorts with the vampire who I foolheartedly tried to rage war with. My emotions got the better of me and being the young "prince" of the most prominent law firm since the beginning of time kinda got to my head, I guess. Who in the Hell am I kidding. Even with the lush new office the senior partners found appropriate to grant me, I could barely fit into it with my ego. The memory of the night I was in Lorne's bar and Angel found out he was going to have to team up with me is still fresh in my head. He didn't even try to hide his disgust. No doubt wondering how anything human could knowing aid the evil that he, being an ensouled demon, but demon nonetheless, tried to vanquish. I remember numerous occasions before imagining him in the full "Night in Shining Armor" getup, giggling as if I had finally cracked up, then quickly sobering up when I glanced at my newly acquired prosthetic hand.  
  
As I sauntered over to Angel and his gang of good-doers, it took me all of my calm, cool and wise ass nature not to break my guitar over Angel's head. Arrogant jackass. Thinks he has all the answers. He above all others should know that the world is rarely, if ever black and white. That good and evil is in every facet life. That even above good and evil, there's the will of every living thing to survive. And that's all I've ever tried to do. Survive. In a world that's far from crystal perfect, even without the evil I helped put back on the streets daily, I have only done what was necessary to survive. So yeah, I sold my soul for six figures and a corner office. But also for protection. Because would Angel be able to protect me from the very humans he has sworn to protect? And for what? Redemption. The very thing I seek as I let my mind race just as fast as my truck down the highway. But how could I in all good intentions protect those who started me on my bitter and angry path in the first place? No, my anger and hatred began long before I met Angel.  
  
For all of his years and experience, Angel damn sure is dense. So I told him about my childhood, when my family was so poor my father had to give up the house. I didn't tell him about my teenaged years. When strange changes started to overcome me and my father, outraged, cast me out on the streets with my mother, insistent that I couldn't be his. That he would never have a freak for a son. I still remember the day my powers first revealed themselves. It was a warm summer night. It was late in the evening and one of my younger sisters was crying because she was afraid of the dark. My parents weren't able to pay the light bill again and my sister sounded like she would die of misery. Desperate to calm her down, I gently took her hand and whispered soothing words to her. Her cries died down but her heart still hammered in her chest. Fueled by her despair and terrified of the idea of losing a sibling, I found myself willing the lights to come on. Suddenly, strong currents of electricity began to leave my body and the room flooded with light. As I witnessed the emotions on my fathers face change swiftly from awe, to shock and then revulsion, I began to wish that the lights were still off so I wouldn't have to see his face. The look of disgust as he threw my mother and me out, ignoring the screams and wails of my younger siblings was too much for me to bear. Angel's was all too similar.  
  
My mother was able to find menial jobs to pay for the low rent apartment we lived in but I did more than my part to pay the bills. Using my newfound powers to beat the hell out of some unsuspecting asshole. I would seek out pricks who deserved it, reasoning my actions so that little pang I soon realized to be my conscious wouldn't nag me to death. But soon even that wouldn't matter. I was a determined student with a preppie "Go-Get-`Em" attitude by day and a ruthless "Mutie" criminal by night. So I sold out and did whatever it took to get as many rich fake ass beneficiaries as possible. Let them think of me as a charity case and write me off each April. Soon as I became a full-fledged lawyer and W&H "Golden Boy" first thing I did was alert the IRS to the gross misleading statements on their tax returns. How do you think Cordelia Chase's family got put up on that chopping block?  
  
Still, this is in the past. As I race down the road what is on my mind is redemption. Yet as the world is set in front of me, the line between good and evil is thread-like thin and too blurry for me to distinguish. How in a few short years, mutants can become more feared and reviled than demons is beyond me. Let a handsome "Dark Avenger" sort vampire save a woman and they gush about how brave they were and how great their hair is. Let an even more handsome mutant lawyer with a great singing voice and charming smile save said woman and she screams and tells said mutant lawyer to "Get away or I'll mase you!" Of course, it's just like people to ignore "What goes Bump in the Night" and concentrate on mutants, a soul-having species. It's retarded. And preposterous. And a lot more words that convey outrage. Damn. Look at me. Sighing and brooding like the damned vampire. And with a college education and a law degree you'd think I'd be able to think up more words without a thesaurus. But I'm of topic. My problem is whom in the Hell do I save? How do I seek redemption? It took Angel a century to find his place in the world.  
  
I bet I can beat that.  
  
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R&R  
  
Love,  
Jaded316 


	2. Musings During Ren & Stimpy

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Chapter 2: Musings During Ren & Stimpy  
  
After 2 months, 1 week and a numerous amount of stays at Motel 6, and I have gotten absolutely nowhere. The only thing I've learned is that Motel 6 actually has a "Preferred Customer" account so if you stay there enough that you can get free cable or some other nonsense. Either that or the blonde airhead at the check in was trying to flirt with me. What kind of whore did she take me for? Trying to seduce me with motel benefits? Didn't she know, I thought my sins were branded on my skin for the whole world to see? I'd only sell my mind and soul. My body is just some cheap side gift. Included with purchase. I'm half surprised that Wolfram & Hart didn't demand that I have a tattoo on my ass that said "Property of W&H." Then again, I guess my borrowed hand is enough of a marker of who I belonged to.  
  
Sitting in my room, musing on whether or not Domino's had a preferred customer's list, too, I began taking full advantage of my free cable. Aimlessly, I plopped down on my bed and switched the channels until I saw an old Ren & Stimpy cartoon I could hardly remember. So I watch pointless cartoon drivel, sue me. Chuckling while Stimpy sang the "Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy" song, I sat up on my bed and started digging through my duffel bag. I only packed the necessities like clothes, a toothbrush and a comb. Miscellaneous stuff like that. I also packed some sentimental things, too, A.K.A., nothing I bought after joining Wolfram and Heart. But there wasn't anything truly sappy, like old birthday cards or naked baby pictures. I can't help but involuntarily shudder everytime I remembered that mom had those at home. I just had my old, beat up wallet. Much like most of the time Before Wolfram & Hart, or B.W.H, it had no money in it. Just pictures. Pictures of my mom and dad, where his face was conveniently cut out. Pictures of my young brother and baby sister and pictures of me. Before I discovered what I was. Before I forced my mother to have to leave her son and daughter to protect her mutant child. My mother left with me knowing that she wouldn't be able to see them grow up. How could she? Mother wasn't able to demand the right to see her children. It would draw too much attention to the reason she had to leave. Me. Her misfit first born. I could only imagine what the man I use to call father had told my brother and sister about me. I imagined him, scowl on his face, look of disgust telling them how I was the "enemy". A "bad seed". "Freak".. The show ended and I was jolted back to reality as the theme sound blared. Slowly, I lifted myself up from my slouching position groaning as my lower back ached, reminding me that I wasn't that young of a man any more. Great. Not only am I aging, but also I have nothing in my life to show for the last fifteen years of my life but regrets.  
  
I left the small living area and went into the bathroom to take a shower. As I felt the warm water hit me and relax very tense muscles, my mind wandered back to my life B.W.H. I couldn't help but smirk at how blasphemous it is to call it Before Wolfram & Hart. Yet it seemed fitting. In the world, BC or Before Christ seemed to be a world full of poverty and famine. Then a savior stepped forth. A protector, and filled the people with hope. For me, W&H was a protector, a savior from poverty but also from the "pro-human activists", as they liked to call themselves. More like radicals ready to declare Martial Law and burn every mutant at the stake. I still have vivid memories of hearing through paper thin walls my mother crying herself to sleep, scared that one day these so-called humans would come and take away the only child she had left. Damn. I spaced out again. Blinking a few times, I realize that the only that that snapped me back from my reverie this time was that the once warm water had now turned ice cold. Sighing, I stepped out of the shower and dried myself off. Wrapping the towel around my waist I ran a hand through my wet hair and dialed up the number for Domino's. After that I through on an under shirt and a pair of dark blue boxers, all the time wondering why my thoughts seemed to be pulling me back into my past so often. It wasn't until the pizza delivery guy had long come and gone and I was on my third slice of pepperoni pizza did it hit me. The only way I can leave my old life with Wolfram & Hart behind was if I revisit my past. Start back at "Go" and find a new path. A path that I might have taken if I hadn't rolled a 666 and gone immediately to Park Place and Broadwalk. And there was no doubt where I was first heading. To the woman who had given up her family for me. My mother.  
  
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R&R Please  
  
Next Chapter: We find out who Lindsey's father really is and get a deeper understanding of Lindsey and find out the path he chooses.  
  
Love,  
Jaded316 


	3. Where's Daddy?

(A/N): This is without a doubt the hardest chapter I've ever written because I'm a fifteen-year-old girl, not a mother. So if I insult any mother's out there by not accurately explaining how one would feel in this situation, I'm sorry. An you'll notice that Lindsey and Rebecca slip in and out of their accents because I have one too and that's what often happens to me. No real special reason.  
  
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Chapter 3: Where's Daddy?  
  
Rebecca's POV:  
  
Just like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that, I find myself taking a walk around the street of New York City, aimlessly, as I study the brigade of business suits and cell phones past by in a blur. A band of mindless drones, too busy concentrating on closing the next 'Big Deal' or getting some dirt-bag out of jail on some technicality to recognize the impact their livelihoods are having on their spirits. Just like my son. With the faint taste of bile rising in my throat, I greet the doorman, trying with all my might not to seem curt and acknowledge him with the southern matters my momma instilled in me.  
  
"Hello Jason. How's your family doing? Good? That's wonderful. What's that? Your son has made honor roll at his school? That's excellent! Congratulations!"  
  
As I walk away, the smile I greeted the doorman with turns bitter as I calmly but swiftly walk toward the elevator, my appearance showing nothing of the dread I feel. 'My son was top of his class, too. That's why he's a lawyer at one of the most prominent law firms in the nation. That's how he came to sell his soul.' Breathing out a sigh of relief when the elevator doors opened, I hurried inside, anxious to get to my apartment as soon as possible. Leaning heavily on the side of the elevator, I'm forced to use the bar to brace myself when my knees begin to shake. I finally raise my hand to press the button for the top floor, but I realize my hand is trembling slightly. Grabbing my hand to stop the shaking, I have to force myself to take a deep breath and wait patiently for the elevator to reach my floor.  
  
Stepping off of the elevator, I wearily walked to my apartment. Actually being inside my apartment isn't much better than being in the elevator. This whole building feels like a tomb. I'm reminded of that movie where Charlize Theron was married to Keanu Reeves who was unknowing working for the devil. Every once in a while I expect Jason's face to lose its human façade and show his inner demon. If I knew just how close that movie would have hit home with me I wouldn't have watched it. Even if it does have those big brown eyes of Keanu Reeves.  
  
Kicking off my shoes, I pulled my brown hair into a sloppy bun as I went into the kitchen to make dinner. The kitchen is probably where I'm most comfortable. Memories of making breakfast, lunch and dinner for three hyperactive children lull me into forming a ghost of a real smile on my lips. Of course, that kitchen was nowhere near as nice as the one I have now. And there's no daily food fight to have to clean up, but just preparing the food reminds me of my kids. Any memories I can grasp of my former family are welcomed and far between in this swanky place my son bought for me. I could tell that he was surprised that I asked to move to New York. He probably thought I wanted to move closer to him. But I couldn't watch as he poured every bit of his heart and soul into a law firm that specialized in supporting clients who were damned. And were slowly pulling my son to Hell with them.  
  
The miles between us still haven't stopped him from visiting though, but I almost wished they had. The last time he came here for a visit still haunts me. The smiles that never reached his eyes, the way he tensed whenever I asked about work and the subtle hints that suggested that his very soul was weary. For a mother to witness such hopelessness in her son is enough to make her judge every choice, and every inane decision she's ever made for her boy, but what really scared me about Lindsey were his eyes. Go figure, right? The eyes are the windows to the soul and who better to tell when something wrong with him than his own mother? But in Lindseys' eyes all I could see was a thirst for power. A will to dominate. Just as cold and calculated as his fathers' eyes...  
  
It was a single, hesitant knock that snapped me out of my reverie and I was so thankful for it that at first I thought I just imagined it. Anything to stop the series of thoughts my mind had led me to. Quickly, I walked out of the kitchen eager to leave my ghosts in there. The pleasant ones where I clean macaroni off the floor and the cold ones where ice blue eyes forced me to leave with my three kids. When I open the door, an unconvincing smile plastered on my face, my heart stops dead in its tracks. My son was right in front of me, looking tired and something I never thought I'd see again after he joined wolfram & Hart. He looked so unsure, as if he had no direction. His eyes shifted from side to side almost nervously when I realized that I had just been standing there with my mouth hanging wide open.  
  
".. Morning momma.."  
  
That's all it took. A real smile crept onto my face and I grabbed him into a bone-crushing hug. This was my son. Not Wolfram & Hart's hotshot lawyer. This wasn't even his father's son. Just the little boy who would hang onto my legs while I was walking around the house, trying to straighten up. The little boy who would whine and squirm around whenever I tried to cut his hair. He wasn't just a memory anymore but in my arms.Trying desperately to breathe.  
  
"Oh! Sorry, son. It's just such a pleasant surprise to see you. Aren't you suppose to be working?"  
  
Lindsey doesn't tense up this time. Instead the sides of his mouth quirk up into a ghost of a smile.  
  
"I left the law firm, momma."  
  
I felt like my heart was going to burst and tears of joy flooded my eyes. My son was finally safe. I knew why my son thought he joined Wolfram & Hart. He wanted protection. He thought that people who dealt with demons on a daily basis could easily deal with a mutant as an employee. And as long as he didn't use his powers, no one outside the senior partners would have any idea. But he couldn't see that even when he was running from his mutant genes, his father's other charming quirks were still pushing to the surface. The bitterness and the need to be in complete control.  
  
"Lindsey. Sit down. I was finishing making dinner. I'm making spaghetti and meatballs. It was someone's favorite but I can't remember whose?"  
  
I joked; rubbing my chin in a thoughtful matter as Lindsey lowered his head and gave me a shy grin.  
  
"It was mine, momma. Still is, I guess."  
  
" Ah, I see. Then I guess you picked the perfect time to visit! Go and get cleaned up. We can eat and then we can talk about whatever you want to, alright darlin'?  
  
Slowly, he nodded and kissed me on the cheek as he walked down the hall, passed the living room and into the back. I could hear him opening the door of the guestroom as I stood there. Frozen, touching the cheek he'd just kissed. Excited, I walked back to the kitchen with new vigor, beaming at the idea of making my son a good ol' home cooked meal.  
  
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"Thanks for the meal, momma."  
  
Lindsey looked at me from across the table and I smiled at his manners. This quiet, almost timid side of my boy was a breath of fresh air compared to the cocky lawyer who visited me last time. It was almost like he was retracing his steps. Trying to start back from a time he didn't make a deal with the devil. Damn. That really is too similar to that movie with Keanu, The Devil's Advocate. That thought isn't very reassuring.  
  
"You're welcome, sugah."  
  
Getting up to put the dishes in the sink, I take the plates and glasses to the sink and start washing them. I'm pleasantly surprised when Lindsey walks over to the right side of me, grabs a towel and starts drying the dishes I have washed. Just like when he was younger. But this time he's tall enough to put the dishes away.  
  
"So what's on your mind, sugah?"  
  
"You know why I left the law firm, don't you?"  
  
That's my boy. Just as astute as his momma. That's one thing of mine I can claim he got from me.  
  
"Yeah, son. I'm no stranger to the evil in this world human or otherwise. I've known for a while. And I've been praying for you ever since."  
  
A sad, regretful smile found it's way on my boy's face and I felt the sting of unshed tears prick my eyes, but I shook them away.  
  
"But you'll be fine, Lindsey. You left Wolfram & Hart. I'm proud of ya, hon."  
  
Lindsey paused as he put the last glass away. Sighing, he finally place it in the cabinet and closed the door, his head falling downward as he reluctantly turned to face me.  
  
"Momma, we need to talk about my past."  
  
Dammit. Here it comes. The moment in every single mother's life when they have to answer their child's most dreaded question. 'Where's Daddy?' It's enough to make my blood run cold.  
  
"Sit down, Lindsey."  
  
I watched as my son gingerly sat down at the table, the saying 'Jittery as a June bug' comes to me. He looked around awkwardly as I placed a bowl of coffee ice cream in front of him. His favorite. He looked up at me through his lashes with a bemused grin and a raised eyebrow. I returned it with a small smile and a shrug. I lowered myself slowly into the chair across from him, preparing to tell him the whole truth.  
  
"Lindsey, before I start you have ta promise me ya won't go an' interrupt me before I'm done. Ok, sugah?"  
  
Frowning when he noticed my accent slipping in, Lindsey nodded slowly, leaning in and resting his crossed arms on the dinner table. When he was younger I probably woulda scolded him for this. That thought makes me smile a bit before I start with the more pressing matter at hand.  
  
"Lindsey, the man you and your brother and sister grew up believing was your biological father really wasn't. When you were three and I was pregnant with your brother and sister, your father and I split up. He was a mutant."  
  
Lindsey's eyes were wide and he opened his mouth to speak but I raised my hand to silence him. I wasn't done yet.  
  
"When I first met your father, I didn't see it. The bitterness he felt toward humans. Whenever he was around me or us all I saw in his eyes was love. He cared about us so much. But one day, his partner, Charles Xavier, called and told me that he was worried that your father was becoming more. volatile."  
  
I paused as I watched realization slowly dawn on Lindsey.  
  
"I refused to believe him, but one night, we got in a fight. He began ranting about how a war was brewing between humans and mutants. I couldn't believe this was the man I married and I asked him if his war was with me, too. Irate he said if I stood in his way, he'd kill me, too. For a month I stayed on his good side, pretending everything was fine while I planned and set up arrangements behind his back. When Eric's temper became too out of control, I burned our home down and made it look like we died in the fire. I took us to Grandma's and the next month, I met a man, who was willing to marry me and father three kids who weren't his own. Until he realized they were mutants."  
  
Lindsey's expression changed from one of anger, to reluctant understanding, to denial but his mouth stayed shut. I have a feeling it was all he could do to keep his dinner down.  
  
"What?! What do you mean 'mutants'?! Are you telling me that Peter and Wanda are mutants, too?! How could you possibly know?!"  
  
His hands ball into fists of rage on the table and I paused to put a reassuring hand on them. Unfortunately, the news I had to give him about his brother and sister was going to do anything but assure him of their safety.  
  
"After you left for college I started looking for them. I went to Tom, your stepfather's house but all that greeted me was burned wreckage. I asked the sheriff and he told me that the place burned down a year before. They found Tom's body, but Peter and Wanda were never found."  
  
The tears in my eyes that I have been saving for my two youngest finally flowed down my face and the sob of a mother who has no idea what happened to her babies echoed throughout this horrid apartment. Paid with blood money, earned with my son's soul. The tears finally felt like that meant something now that I had somebody to share them with. I just wish I hadn't had to burden my son with this. Lindsey got out of his chair and kneeled in front of me.  
  
"That still doesn't prove their mutants, though. They could have run away. I'll find them. I promise."  
  
Cradling my son's face in my hands, I smiled at him through the thick veil of tears.  
  
"When I talked to the sheriff, he told me that strange.things.had been happening around there. He said that the neighbors were getting suspicious and that he often had to protect Wanda and Peter against angry mobs who tried to form every time something unexplainable happened."  
  
I can't help the bitterness that's in my voice, thinking of those bastards who dared to raise a hand toward my children is enough to make me.. It's enough to make me re-think their fathers' words. Maybe a war is brewing. And I'll fight against anyone who'd even try to harm my children in any way.  
  
"Momma?"  
  
The quiet voice of my son calls me back to him, as I see unshed tears glisten in his clear blue eyes. His fathers' eyes. It's time to tell him.  
  
"Lindsey, sugah. When I was with your father, he was known as Eric Leshnerr. Now he's better known as Magneto."  
  
Lindsey's eyes widen in shock as he slowly takes a steady breath. For a moment I fear he's gonna hyperventilate but I haven't seen him do that since he was twenty-two. When he got his internship at Wolfram &Hart.  
  
"The terrorist who tried to kill half of New York? How could this.? Momma, how could you not tell me all these years?"  
  
There's no anger or betrayal on his face, only confusion. And that's is a blessing I would had even dared to hope for.  
  
"Because I'm your mother, not your father. And my sins are mine alone to bear. Not yours."  
  
The severity of that statement is like a weight on my chest, making it impossible to breathe. Indeed, 'The sins of the Father are pasted on to the Children'. I can only hope that Eric's sins don't entrap our son now that he is free from the clutches of Wolfram & Hart. The only bad thing about him leaving W&H is that now he's without purpose. And there's no doubt in my mind that Lindsey will try to locate that purpose starting with his roots. No matter how tangled and dirty they maybe.  
  
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(A/N): Man. That was hard to write. If you actually read this whole thing plz. R&R. It took me weeks to write this. And not just because I'm lazy, thank you very much! :P  
  
Now let me give you a bit o' X-Men History:  
  
Peter and Wanda actually are Magneto's children.  
  
Peter's name though is actually Peitro. And he's the mutant 'Quicksilver'.  
  
Wanda is his twin sister and her mutant identity is 'The Scarlet Witch.'  
  
And yes, there was a fire in Magneto's past that destroyed his family, but I basically toyed around with it a bit.  
  
R&R please  
  
Love,  
FieryDiMaia 


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